


Serendipitous

by findmyparadise



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: F/M, Self-Insert, mention of the Spice Girls, reader drinks a glass of wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29462844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findmyparadise/pseuds/findmyparadise
Summary: An airport mishap lands you in Monaco for another night. Only problem? You’ve already checked out and no hotel nearby has vacancy. The too-nice guy at the bar offers you a place to crash, but is the reward worth the risk?
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Reader, Daniel Ricciardo/You
Kudos: 2





	Serendipitous

ust a cute Daniel fic for you on this lovely Wednesday morning! Enjoy! (There are a few author’s notes at the end!)

Word count: 8k

Rating/warnings: None! Maybe like, three or four swear words? She’s seriously as fluffy as a wee lamb.  
image

The chime of your phone pulls you away from the weather report currently being broadcast on the television above the bar. Luckily for the residents of Monaco, it seems that the weather tomorrow will be just as it is every other summer day - sunny and beautiful. 

You glance down at the phone and see an email from the airline company you’re due to depart for home with later that evening. “Cancelled? Great. There goes the meeting Wednesday. I’m going to have to call Jackson and get him to reschedule with everyone again and rearrange the reservations with the hotel and the catering and… Ugh.” You down the last of the wine in your glass and put your head in your hands, miserable already at the idea of redoing so much work that has already been done. The meeting with all of the other evaluators had taken months to schedule and coordinate and now it would all have to be done again.

You rake your hands through your hair and look up as the bartender approaches. “May as well refill me,” you say, nodding to your empty glass, “I don’t have a flight to catch any time soon like I thought.” You flip through emails and text messages, updating the necessary parties that you’ll now be in Monaco for an extra night. Your next call is to the hotel that you had just hours ago checked out of.

“You’re booked solid? As in, no available rooms for tonight?” You listen to the hotel staff click away at their keyboard for a moment before they affirm that the hotel is fully booked due to the performance of a local musical group nearby. You thank the kind soul on the phone who promises to call you first thing should a room become available and heave a sigh as the bartender places your wine glass back down in front of you. 

“What’d that glass of wine ever do to you?” An Australian accent asks from your right. You look up and first notice a head of unruly curls but your eyes are immediately drawn to his, which, although crinkled up as a result of his sly smile, are such a deep chocolate brown that you can’t seem to tell where the color ends and his pupil begins. 

“It’s not the glass of wine’s fault,” you explain, picking up the glass and twirling the liquid inside slightly. “It just seems as though I’m up the proverbial creek without the proverbial paddle here.”

The man, who seems quite casually dressed for a night on the town in skinny black jeans and a graphic t-shirt compared to your work attire of a simple dress and blazer, sits down on the stool next to yours, allowing his long legs to slightly brush yours as he turns to you. He nods at the bartender and smiles, which seems to set his whole face alight. You turn away quickly, hoping he didn’t notice you staring but his grin widens and he knows you were. “Not a bad place to be in without a paddle,” he says. “M'name’s Daniel.”

“Though not a great one to be in without a flight or a hotel room,” you mutter, taking a sip of your wine before introducing yourself. 

The bartender sets Daniel’s drink down and says, “On the house Danny. Great job last weekend, what a finish. Glad you fellas have some time off after that triple header.”

“Thanks Marty, I appreciate it. Was a long time coming,” Daniel says. He takes a long drag of his beer and replaces it on the bar top, drawing a circle in the condensation that’s gathered on the glass. He repeats your name once to himself, and damn if you don’t like the way your name sounds in his accented voice. “So, no paddle and no hotel room. You got anything to navigate this creek?”

You shake your head no, smiling at his paddle and creek comment. “Apparently not. Some concert has, apparently, completely booked my hotel. I wish I’d gotten that flight cancellation about six hours ago. I could’ve just driven back to Zurich tonight.” You take a large drink of the rapidly disappearing wine and chuckle to yourself. “Guess that’s out of the question now.”

“Zurich, huh? You’re Swiss?” He’s nodding along to the beat of the music that’s faintly playing through the stereo speakers at the bar but he’s paying his complete attention to you.

“No, I’m kind of from everywhere. I work as an independent events consultant and our corporate office is there.”

“What’s an ‘independent events consultant’ doing out here in fabulous Monaco, other than enjoying the weather?”

You laugh out loud and it’s suddenness seems to surprise him because he chuckles along with you. “Sorry. Definitely not enjoying the weather. We evaluate events - mostly large expos and corporate seminars and functions - to provide unbiased third-party feedback to organizers. I’ve been in the casino almost non-stop for the last three days attending a seminar all about yachts.”

“How was it? Did you learn anything? I’ve been on a few yachts myself.”

“It was excellent, though I’ve never personally been on a yacht. For the job, it’s not so much about learning about the event content as it is about evaluating the way the event was planned and executed down to the very fine details, like the feel of the silverware or how the lighting affects the appearance of the presentations. 

For me, I think that learning a lot about a new topic every other week is absolutely fascinating. Yachts may have not been my first choice, but I was the only one available to take this project on. Maybe fate is telling me it’s time for a vacation, leaving me stranded here and all.” You glance at your phone again, noticing the late hour. You grab your wallet and search for your card, sliding it over to the bartender as he walks past. As you finish the bit of wine that’s left in your glass, you gather the small bags that have been sitting at your feet. “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go in search of a hotel for the evening. It was nice chatting with you." 

"Wait,” he says, and reaches for your arm that’s steadying you against the tall barstool. His touch is soft and his hands are warm and instinctively lean in towards him as his hand smooths up your arm gently. The bartender sets your card and receipt between the two of you and Daniel reaches for it with his free hand. He grabs the pen and scribbles something barely legible on one of the small slips of paper before sliding it back towards you.

“If you-”

“Daniel! Dan! We’re going! C'mon!” You can hear the shouting from here and look up to see a gaggle of men crowded by the door waving him over. The one that’s shouting has a familiar face nearly covered by a navy cap, but you can’t place where you know it from. 

Daniel laughs next to you and you can see him shaking his head. He holds up a middle finger to the group behind him and you can hear their laughter over the din of the other patrons. “If you end up needing somewhere to crash, let me know.”

You glance over and can now see that what he’s scribbled is a phone number. “Oh, I don’t want to intrude, I-" 

"No pressure. I’ve got a guest room and you need a bed, is all. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t at least offer? The door has its own lock, and judging by the muscles that must be hiding in that arm there, you could probably kick my ass if you needed to.”

“Dan!" 

"Max! Chill! Can’t you see I’m busy?” He gestures between you and himself and you laugh a full body laugh that feels good to let loose after the last hour that you’ve had. Daniel looks at you with a wide grin and you can tell it’s genuine. You see the guy behind him, Max, hold up his hands in defeat but there’s a smile on his face. 

“I appreciate the offer,” you say, folding the slip of paper with his number on it and sliding it securely into your dress pocket with your phone. “I may take you up on that if nothing else pans out.”

“Ouch, making me a last resort. I get it, I truly do. Even if you don’t end up needing to crash at my place, feel free to call. Or text, I can do either, y'know. I’d love to know more about paddles and yachts and creeks. And you. Well, mostly you, actually. Catch ya later,” he stands and for a moment invades your space. He’s tall, much taller than you, and you’ve got to slightly tilt your head to look up at his face. At this much-closer range, you can see the milk-chocolate color of his eyes and the slight stubble that covers his cheeks. He radiates warmth and you’re struck with an innate desire to reach out and touch the springy curls that rest at the nape of his neck.

As quickly as he entered your space he’s out of it, stepping away from the bar and you. “Bye, Daniel.” His grin is wide - the guy seems to never stop smiling - and he turns towards his friends at the door. He glances back once before leaving and you can swear that he winks at you before he’s pulled into the cool evening air.

***

It was only a half hour or so later when his phone chimes. Max and the guys were convinced they needed to go to yet another bar before ending the night. Daniel pauses in the middle of the sidewalk to fish his phone from his pocket, leaving the group to walk ahead without him.

From Unknown Number: I thought this was supposed to be a tourist town. How can every hotel be completely booked?

Daniel pumps his fist in the air and lets out a whoop. He immediately stores your number in his phone and types out a response. 

Do you know who the artist that’s in town?

Your response is quick and he can’t help but be pleased that you’re waiting for his messages to come through just as much as he’s waiting for yours. No.

It’s The Spice Girls Reunion Tour. I’d be there but we couldn’t even get tickets.

“You still coming Dan?” Max shouts from up ahead. Daniel’s phone is quiet for a moment.

“You guys go ahead. I might have other plans.”

“Plans with that hottie from the bar?”

“Goodbye, Max!” Daniel’s phone chimes again as the group departs, laughing. 

Shit, if I had known, I would have tickets. 

Daniep thinks for a moment before deciding to ask for the answer that he’s been waiting for ever since he left you in the bar. So tell me what you want, what you really really want.

His phone rings and he answers it laughing. “Are you going to sing the rest of the song to me?”

“No,” you say laughing, “but that song is going to be stuck in my head for days now.” You pause and Daniel doesn’t make a sound on his end of the call. He barely even breathes. “None of my other options panned out, so I’m seeking out my last resort. If,” you say hurriedly, “you don’t mind my intrusion. I’m actually legitimately stuck because I can’t rebook my flight until the airline’s service desk opens in the morning, but I promise not to be a bother.”

“Hey,” Daniel says quickly, already thinking through the list of things he’s got to do to make his apartment look somewhat presentable for a lady, “I’m the one that offered. And I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing. I’ll text you the address. Try not to beat me there.”

Daniel hears you sigh. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For real. I don’t know why I’m trusting a stranger who I’ve just met in a bar on the French Riviera to take me in the middle of the week but for whatever reason, I do. My gut tells me to trust you. You’re not going to make me regret this, are you?”

“I definitely hope not.”

***

The doorman in the lobby had greeted you by name, so hopefully that meant that you’d not beaten Daniel to his own apartment. He directs you to the elevator and presses the button for the 14th floor, saying that Mr. Ricciardo’s apartment is to the right upon exiting the elevator.

Ricciardo. Ricciardo. Why does that name sound so familiar?

It hits you like a ton of bricks as the elevator passes the 6th floor. Why the guy in the bar, the one who had waved from the door, looked so familiar. 

It had been at least a couple years since your organization had performed an event audit for Formula One, but it stands out as having been one that was immaculately run. The planning and organization process of the event continues to be a benchmark by which your organization measures event success. 

You hadn’t attended the event yourself, but could recall some details from handouts, deliverables, and pictures. Daniel Ricciardo was a Formula One driver and his friend Max was as well. 

That explains the bartender’s comment, you think, he must’ve had a good race. You weren’t a huge sports follower - until recently, when you’d taken over the executive leadership role within the organization, you had worked every weekend and didn’t have time to attend events other than those decided (and paid for) by work. 

The opening of the elevator doors is startling and seems to set your heartbeat into an irregular rhythm. No turning back now.

Daniel’s front door is slightly ajar, but you still knock lightly. A shouted “come in” can be heard from somewhere within the apartment, so you push the door open and close it gently behind you.

You immediately notice that there’s music playing throughout the apartment. You laugh when you realize that it’s a Spice Girls song, though you can’t recall enough of the lyrics to sing along. 

The apartment is clean, organized, and decorated - if you can call it that - very simply. You immediately notice the signs of his career strewn about the entryway - there’s a miniature helmet sitting on a small end table and a black and yellow “Renault” hat next to it. A candle that smells remarkably like fuel burns softly on the table, though the dust on top of the wax makes you think that this is the first time in a while it’s been lit. 

You hear muffled footsteps and Daniel rounds the corner, dressed now in tall colorful socks, simple shorts and a cozy looking sweatshirt emblazoned with the letters “RIC” and the number 3 on the front. Like the other time you had seen him, a smile is plastered on his face, though this one seems incredibly genuine. “I have to admit, I’m glad all of your other options hadn’t worked out.”

Admittedly, there had actually been two hotels with some availability for the night, but curiosity had kept you from reserving them. Instead, you’d called Daniel, hoping that the feeling in your gut was right and that he could be trusted.

“That must be your racing number,” you point out the “3” with a smile. “I didn’t realize I was speaking to Monaco royalty at the bar.”

“Far from royalty,” he says, and you think he may be blushing a bit but the way his smile pulls at his cheeks, it’s hard to tell. “You know racing?”

“I know of it,” you say, setting the heavier of your two bags down gently on the floor. “We’ve evaluated F1 events before and I knew the name sounded familiar after your doorman mentioned it. It didn’t click until I was in the elevator on the way up.”

“Well, at least I know now that you didn’t agree to come because you want my money,” he laughs. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself officially. It’s tough sometimes around here because if they aren’t noticing my face, they recognize the name. Most Monegasques are pretty big racing fans. The Grand Prix that takes place here each year is a huge event.”

“I’d imagine so,” you say, glancing out at the incredible ocean view that the nearby balcony doors boast. The sun has long since set but the bright moon and lights from the city, combined with the lights from the fleet of boats that call the marina home all reflect off of the water creating a soft glow. All at once, it suddenly feels ridiculously romantic being alone in Daniel’s apartment with him. The dimmed lights and soft music almost make you wonder if he’s attempted to set the mood for your arrival and the thought makes you smile. 

“I can uh- I can show you to the guest room,” Daniel says a bit awkwardly. He shifts from foot to foot a bit, like he can’t stand still for even a minute. You follow him through the living room and kitchen, both simple but welcoming. You notice a few small homely touches but it seems to be mostly racing memorabilia and accessories arranged haphazardly. “We aren’t home very often in the season so there’s not a whole lot here right now,” he explains as he turns down a small hallway. “I have some snacks, if you’re hungry, and there’s drinks too, obviously, and-” He stops quickly outside of a door and you collide with his back, too busy glancing around to notice his sudden lack of movement. His hand catches your arm as you toddle backwards a bit before righting yourself. “Shit, I’m sorry. You alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m sorry. I was just thinking of how much this reminds me of my brother’s apartment back in Austin. He’s a typical bachelor too,” you state, hoping that you’ve assumed correctly and that he won’t correct you. He doesn’t. “He’s not much for decorations either." 

Daniel’s hand is still wrapped around your upper arm. His thumb is tracing gentle circles where it rests and the tiny touch alone fills you with warmth. He must notice the way you’ve both gone quiet because he takes a deep breath and steps back slightly out of the doorway so you can pass him.

"There’s a bathroom just down the hall on the right there. You’re welcome to use anything that’s there, though I can’t promise that it’s much. I uh- I don’t have guests stay over that often,” he shrugs, running his hand through his hair. There’s a tiny part of you that wants to be the one doing that. Maybe a part that’s slightly larger than tiny. 

“Thanks,” you say softly, reaching up to pat his bar that’s still resting on the door frame. “I seriously appreciate you letting me stay here, Daniel.”

“I have to admit that I’m happy nothing else worked out,” he grins. He reaches up to pull at his hair again and you notice it as something he likely does when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. “I was going to turn on a movie and chill a bit, if you wanted to join me. You must’ve had a long ass day and I totally get it if you just want to sleep and head out tomorrow, but I’m awful at going right to bed and like to relax a bit before, especially after going out and-”

“Hey,” you cut him off, making him smile, “I’d like that. Let me just get settled first, if that’s okay?" 

"Of course, sorry, I’ll move now,” he says all at once, trying to navigate around you and your bags. The end result is him bumping into you twice more, though you can’t be sure they were completely on accident. By the time you’re finally in the guest room and he’s in the hall, you’re both laughing. “The door’s got a lock on it, if you want to use that. I’ll just uh- Queue up the movie in here. Any specific genre you like?”

“Anything is good, but I love comedy,” you say and his grin widens. He dashes down the hall without another word, leaving you chuckling to yourself. You close the door behind you gently and set everything down, glancing around the sparse room. There’s a dresser, bed, and desk, and not much else, though a shelf above the desk boasts a multitude of trophies, helmets, Champagne bottles, and framed pictures. 

You pull your only pair of sweatpants from your small suitcase, thankful that you’d packed a set of appropriate sleepwear for once. Hotel rooms always made you cold, but you’d unfortunately lost your sweatshirt during a layover on the way here. You leave your bra on and toss on an old t-shirt from your college days, thankful that you’d brought along one that wasn’t in complete tatters. Daniel must enjoy keeping his apartment cool because the hardwood floor is cold against your feet. You dig out a clean pair of socks and put them on as well before turning back towards the door. 

When you get into the hall, you notice that the volume of the music has been slightly increased, and there’s a hip hop song playing, but you don’t recognize the artist. You step quietly around the corner and see Daniel in the kitchen, dancing along to the beat as he gathers water bottles and waits for the microwave to pop a bag of popcorn. He closes his eyes and raps out loud along with one of the verses and it makes you smile. 

It’s like he senses you there because he looks over and grins at you but continues singing along as the microwave beeps. “Sorry,” he says when the song ends, “I’m a pretty big music freak and Thundamentals are one of my favorites. I can’t not jam when they come on.” He pauses and looks at you for a moment as though he wants to say something else but he doesn’t. “’m not really supposed to have popcorn but I figured this could be considered a special occasion.”

“What movie did you choose?” You ask as he hands you the warm bowl of popcorn.

“Hot Fuzz. One of my all-time favorites, it’s a classic. Have you seen it before?”

“Bits and pieces, I think,” you say and Daniel’s eyes go a bit wide. “I’m not the biggest movie buff. I’m more of a book reader.”

“Well, I think you’ll like this one. It’s got everything.”

“'I’ll take your word for it,” you say as you settle onto one side of the large couch. You set the popcorn bowl in the middle of the coffee table and tuck your feet up underneath you, curling in close. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. You’re cold, aren’t you? We do two workouts a day sometimes during weeks off like this so I keep the place pretty cold during the summer. Here, I’ve got a blanket you can use,” he says as he reaches around you, pulling a soft cream blanket from the back of the couch and practically tucks you in. The blanket is soft and smells like the perfect mix of a warm cologne and fresh fabric softener. 

“Thank you,” you say as he spreads out on the opposite side of the couch, stretching one of his legs across the table and one towards you. 

“You say 'thank you’ a lot,” he observes.

“You do a lot of kind things for strangers,” you fire back. 

“Fair. Though I think we may know enough about one another to not be considered strangers. We have one another’s phone numbers, we know about each other’s professions, I know you like wine and you know I like music.”

“Okay, that’s fair. What would you want to do if you weren’t a race car driver?”

“Stripper, probably. See, less and less like strangers every minute!”

You laugh aloud and ask another question. “That was awful. What’s your middle name?”

“Joseph. Where were you born?”

“Dallas. Lived there my whole life until I landed my job doing what I do after college.”

“And your brother is in Austin? I love Texas, it’s where I’d be if I wasn’t here. You enjoy your job?”

“I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I caught the travel bug pretty early on in life. Our dad was an airline pilot and I’d always wanted to follow in his footsteps. Turns out, to his dismay, I was a lot better at putting on events than I was at piloting an airplane.”

“I’m sure he’s still proud of you. You love what you do and you can’t beat that." 

"He was,” you say softly. 

Daniel nods in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s been a while now but I always miss him. Traveling for work and constantly being on planes doesn’t make it easier, but I like to think he’s looking out for me.”

After a comfortably quiet moment, Daniel presses play on the remote. 

“Why’d you come up to me at the bar?” you blurt out before you can convince yourself to keep quiet. 

Daniel laughs and pauses the movie again. “Honestly? We walked in and I saw you at the bar, looking miserable on the phone, like you wanted to cry. And I don’t know, for some reason, in that split second,” he pulls his hand through his hair again, “I just wanted to help you to not be miserable, whatever it took. I didn’t realize it would mean inviting you, a stranger, back to my place like this, but here we are.”

“I thought I wasn’t a stranger?” You ask, touched by his words. You had been miserable, no doubt about it, but the flight cancellation and the lack of accommodation had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. You were looking forward to a nice break after the company-wide meeting and now, knowing that the work would have to be done again, for the second time, you were wishing you could somehow take that break now. And in a way, Daniel had offered it to you on a silver platter through his graciousness. You liked how it felt to be free and live a little bit. 

“You aren’t one now. What’s your favorite color?” he asks. 

“Blue.”

“Mine’s yellow, though blue is a close second.”

“How do you take your steak?” you ask, enjoying this fast-paced game of twenty questions.

“Anything cooked longer than medium belongs in the trash.”

“Thank God,” you laugh. “Would’ve had to leave if you had said well done. What’s your favorite holiday?”

“Christmas, means I get to go home and spend time with family.”

“Where is home?" 

"I’ve got a place here, obviously,” he says, gesturing around him with a smile. “And I’ve got a place in LA, but home home, where my family is, is in Melbourne.”

“I’ve never been to Australia. We’ve got a few contracts we’re working on securing down there that could take us soon, but it’ll be awhile I think.”

“You’ll love it. It’s like nowhere else on Earth,” he says with a smile. He doesn’t volley back another question, but instead hits the play button once again to start the film. You watch the beginning of the movie in silence, sharing the popcorn that sits between you. 

Throughout the movie, Daniel has shifted closer to you more than once and is now nearly leaning against you, his arm outstretched across the couch back behind you and his head resting against the cushions. Though the movie is interesting (he was absolutely right in predicting that you would enjoy it), you’re more than distracted now by how close he is to you. His arm twitches slightly, and then a small snore escapes his lips.

You muffle the small laugh that wants to escape. Of course. You aren’t even insulted by his falling asleep, honestly. The man seems to radiate pure energy almost every moment of being awake and it must be exhausting. As the film credits roll, you take a minute to study his features. The stubbly skin of his cheeks and his prominent nose grab your attention, but it was his eyes that had first drawn you in. 

Another snore, louder this time, escapes from him and you grab the remote, thankful that it’s not some incredibly complicated system to power off. You move away from the couch, careful to not wake him, and gently drape the blanket you’d been using across his body. He reaches for it instantly and curls over, clearly comfortable enough to remain asleep.

You retreat to the guest room and gently close the door, not bothering to lock it. The sheets that make up the bed have the same scent as the blanket in the living room, though they’re missing the warm spicy smell of what must be Daniel’s cologne. You want to stay awake and think about what all has taken place over the last few hours, but you’re asleep nearly the second your head hits the pillow. 

***

The bright sunshine warms your bare skin as the waves lap the nearby shore steadily.

“You’re going to get a sunburn,” his voice says, looking appreciatively over your already sun-kissed and barely-covered curves.

“Put some more lotion on me then?" 

His hands find your skin again, silky and soft. A quiet sigh escapes your lips, turning into a sweet moan as he-

Daniel wakes up with a start on the couch, the vivid dream that had been with him just moments before now long gone. He scrubs a hand across his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes and a slight layer of sweat from his temples. He’s too warm all over and he realizes that you’d covered him with the blanket whenever you had gotten up. 

He doesn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but as he stretches to pull his sweatshirt off, he gets a whiff of the vanilla scent that his nose has caught faint glimpses of ever since he invaded your space at the bar, a scent that is now apparently permanently attached to his blanket. He inhales the smell, trying to commit it to memory. You’ve been here for just a few hours and he’s already found himself intoxicated by everything about you.

Daniel always seems to find himself in the position of falling for those that he just can’t have much too hard and much too fast. It’s in his nature to love and to care for those around him, but so far, all it’s ever really earned him is heartbreak. He tries not to let himself get in too deep too quickly, but it seems like he’s already beginning to make some incredible miscalculations concerning you. He knows that letting himself go too far down this rabbit hole could ultimately bite him in the ass, but what’s life worth if you aren’t living it to its fullest? 

He glances over at the guest bedroom door and a long train of thoughts runs through his head all at once. What does your hair look like when it’s not done up for work? How do you let loose and have fun? Did you lock the door before going to sleep? Do you sleep in the same cute sweatpants and t-shirt, or are you like him and sleep with nothing on at all? What do those little sighs really sound like when they fall from your lips? Do you regret coming to his apartment tonight? Did you wish he’d done more?

It wasn’t for lack of wanting to do more, he thinks. Despite your banter, you were still strangers, Daniel tries to remind himself, and despite the reputation those in his profession have, he’s not the one-and-done type. He hopes that rather than part ways as still-strangers tomorrow, he can at least secure the prospect of continuing to learn more about you. That alone would be worth it.

He leaves his hoodie on the back of the couch but drags the blanket to his bedroom, telling himself that he may get cold sometime before his alarm to meet Michael at the gym goes off, but knowing it’s because he doesn’t want to lose the smell of you on it while it’s still there.

He strips quickly and takes a cold shower, standing in the icy spray longer than he really needs to. He pulls a pair of boxers on, just in case, and climbs into bed. More than anything, Daniel wishes that he could fall asleep immediately and somehow resume his dream from earlier. Despite his best attempts, he does not fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

***

You wake with a start and immediately panic at the fact that this is definitely not your hotel room. The disorientation is eased after a moment when memories from the night before come flooding back. You turn and bury your nose in the pillow for a moment, inhaling the warm smell of fabric softener and something that must just be unique to Daniel’s home. You wrap yourself tighter in the blankets on the bed, aware now of how chilly it is in the room. You’re a cold sleeper yourself, but Daniel must like it frigid. 

The thoughts of the previous night again flash through your mind and you smile, trying to figure out where the "normal you” went and when this wild version of yourself showed up. You figured it had to have something to do with Daniel’s magnetism - he was charming, that was for sure.

And attractive, your brain reminds you, like it’s something you could have forgotten. You know what your hair can look like in the morning and only pray that Daniel is nowhere near the guest bathroom so you can at least freshen up. The socks on your feet muffle your steps into the hall, though it seems that the coast is clear because you don’t hear any sounds in the apartment aside from the blowing air conditioner. 

You brush your teeth and run a brush through your hair, aiming for presentable given what little you have to work with. You think of the prospect of spending the remainder of the day being stuck on a flight back to Zurich (if it’s not cancelled too, you think) and apply a light layer of makeup and a small spritz of perfume. You can feel the exhaustion of the long working weekend creeping in already, even if you had slept better last night than you had any other in a Monaco hotel room, and feeling somewhat put together helps alleviate that. 

You dress somewhat in a daze, working to commit each piece of last night to memory so that you’ll never forget it, even long after you and Daniel part ways. You always pack more comfortable clothing to travel in and this trip has thankfully not been an exception, though you fiercely miss the sweatshirt you’d lost. What you wouldn’t give to curl up in it with a cup of coffee and a good book right now. The thought of a hot cup of coffee pulls you from your thoughts. The craving is so strong you swear you can almost smell it. 

No, that’s definitely the smell of coffee, you realize. A panic sets in when you remember that you’ll be coming face to face with Daniel again after having spent the night before nearly-cuddling with him on the couch and then sleeping in his guest room. You fuss with the hem of your shirt, worried that any interaction with him would now be awkward. Like it or not, his charm had worn off on you in a big way in the last 12 hours and you liked him. He was the kind of guy that made you feel like you’d known him your entire life, even if it had only been hours. You already found yourself wanting to know more about him. Wanting to spend more time with him. 

Opening the bathroom door, you notice a sticky note with scrawled writing stuck on the guest bedroom’s door that you’d missed in your haste to make it to the bathroom.

Morning!

Had to leave for a workout, didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be out most of the morning so make yourself comfortable. Coffee’s in the kitchen - just press “start”. 

Text me when you book a flight, I’ll drive you to the airport. I’d love to spend a bit more time with you before you go. 

PS - wifi password id “racerboy3”

\- D

You laugh at his note, a wide smile taking over your face. You like that he hadn’t just sent you a text but had taken the time to write a note. You re-read his scribbled writing and did a little dance, thrilled that the feelings you seemed to have immediately developed for Daniel are somewhat reciprocated. He wanted to spend more time with you. The smiley face he’s doodled at the bottom makes you laugh and you take a moment to tuck the note away in your purse and grab your laptop before heading to the kitchen.

The air conditioner continues to blow and you wonder where the thermostat is. After all, Daniel had said to make yourself comfortable, and the chilly air was beginning to get to you. Just like he’d written, a coffee maker sits on the counter. It’s thankfully a machine you know how to operate and within minutes a steaming cup of coffee is warming your slightly-cold fingers. 

You set your laptop down on the coffee table and take your coffee cup to the balcony doors. There’s not much that could beat a hot cup of coffee and a nice view of the ocean, especially when you know the temperature outside is much warmer than the temperature inside. The sliding door doesn’t budge when you try to move it, despite the lock being disengaged. A glance onto the balcony shows a lot of fitness equipment and a few lounge chairs, along with a foosball table and a small grill. You can’t help but be a bit disappointed at not being able to enjoy your coffee on the balcony, and your sour mood increases by the realization that you still need to book a flight home. 

Light streams through the sliding glass doors, spreading warm sunlight across much of the couch. You tuck your feet under you and connect to the internet, smiling again at Daniel’s password. Though the spot you’ve picked is sunny, the air conditioning vent above you still blows cold air your way. You glance around for the blanket that had been here the night before, wanting to wrap yourself up in its warmth before performing the chore of finding a flight. 

The blanket isn’t there, though you do catch sight of what must be the black sweatshirt that Daniel had been wearing the night before thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch. You wonder for a moment if it smells like the blanket had and before you can stop yourself, you grab the fabric and pull it close, inhaling the warm, spicy scent that you will now always associate with Daniel.

Coffee and flights now forgotten, you quickly pull the sweatshirt over your head and enjoy the comfort of the soft fabric and the oversized fit that always makes you feel cozy. Part of your mind rapidly objects that wearing this guy’s, this stranger’s, clothing is definitely overstepping some boundaries, but the part that is cold and that wants to enjoy this moment while you can wins out. 

You reach for your coffee and finish what is left in the cup before leaning your head back against the couch. The weight of the weekend and the massive amount of work you know you’ll face in the coming days seems to slam down on you, the impending exhaustion already threatening to get to you. The comfort of the couch pulls you in a bit deeper and the air conditioner shuts off, mercifully deciding that it’s done creating an ice box out of the apartment. Stretching out on the couch, the sun warms the fabric of Daniel’s hoodie and you let yourself rest your eyes for just a minute, fingers playing with the hoodie strings that are tied up into a bow, only to fall asleep quickly as you think of sunny beaches and tanned skin and Australian accents spoken through smiling lips.

***

Daniel hadn’t heard from you this morning, which he couldn’t help but be slightly worried about. What if you hadn’t seen his note? What if you had just up and left without saying anything else? Maybe the note he’d written was dumb. Maybe he was dumb for having said that he wanted to spend more time with you. It wasn’t a lie though, and Daniel didn’t make a habit of mincing his words or keeping his feelings much of a secret. Life was too short to play those games, especially when it came to relationships. Or potential relationships. 

Or no relationship at all, he thinks to himself as he parks his car below the apartment building. At the very least, he reassures himself, he has your phone number. Munich isn’t far by plane, and although time would be pretty tight over the next few weeks, if you wanted to give it a shot, he’d be more than willing to try.

He couldn’t explain why or how he was so taken by so quickly. His trainer, Michael, had noticed his distraction almost immediately. 

“You’re not the one-night-stand kinda guy, Daniel,” he’d said as he led Daniel through a set of abdominal exercises. “Hell, I can’t remember the last time you took a girl home without getting to know her first.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Daniel had panted, his mind torn between thinking of you and of the pain in his muscles. Thoughts of you had won out as he collapsed from the plank hold. “She had nowhere else to go. I wasn’t even trying to sleep with her.”

“So why are you so distracted now? She’ll catch a flight home and that’s that.”

“I don’t know, man. But I can’t stop thinking about her. I hardly slept at all last night.”

“So you did want to sleep with her!”

“I never said I didn’t want to, I said I wasn’t trying to!!” Daniel had laughed along with him, though his friend’s comment had sort of struck a nerve. “I would want to, I mean. I want to get to know her first, but I’ll be here and then gone and she’ll be in Munich and wherever else for work. Complicates things, I guess.”

“Life’s complicated man. You want it, you go for it - no one’s gonna do it for you. Squats are next, let’s go,” he’d said, and that had been the end of it. The physicality of the workout had somewhat kept Daniel’s mind off of you, but as soon as he was back in his car and on his way home, on his way to you, he was sidetracked again. 

By the time he’s in the elevator, Daniel has convinced himself that you’ve taken the easy way out and left without saying goodbye. Maybe this way is for the best, he thinks, there won’t be any awkward goodbyes or half-assed see-you-laters. He can just move on and get on with things, focus on the rest of the season ahead of him and prepare to put up some solid finishes.

He’s hyping himself up as he approaches his apartment door, already planning to send the couch blanket and sheets you had slept on to the cleaners that afternoon. 

He opens the front door and shuts it behind him, swearing at the cool air that hits him. “Damn it, forgot again.” He always turns the thermostat down before bed but frequently forgets to turn it back up before leaving for the day. He opens the door to the utility room and ups the thermostat to a respectable temperature.

He drops his gear by the entry table and cues up his favorite playlist via the apartment’s Bluetooth speakers, ready to blast some tunes and shake this funk he feels creeping into his bones. 

He just wishes that he’d be able to say goodbye. 

He rounds the corner to the living room and stops dead at the sight before him. There you are, fast asleep on the couch. He can’t help but stare at the way the sunlight catches in your hair and how peaceful you look when you’re sleeping. He can’t explain it but his breath catches when he notices that it’s his hoodie you’re wrapped in and all he wants to do is pull you close and not let go.

He lets the part of himself that feels like it will die if he doesn’t touch you win out and he sits down gently near your hip where the most couch is available, resting his hand on your knee.

You wake up gently at his touch and look up at him. “Hi,” you whisper, a smile already spreading across your face.

“Hi,” he says back, his own smile mirroring yours. “I didn’t hear from you, I was worried you’d left without saying goodbye.”

“Wouldn’t do that,” you say, gently rubbing the sleep from your eye with the hoodie sleeve. “I’m sorry,” you say, gesturing at yourself, asleep on his couch in his clothes, “it was cold and the weekend just caught up to me, and the blanket was gone and you said make myself com-" 

Daniel cuts you off by gently placing his hand on your cheek. "You look good in my hoodie,” is all he says because saying anything else that’s running through his mind would make him sound like an even bigger idiot. 

“It smells like you,” you say softly, leaning into his touch. Your skin is smooth to his touch and all he wants to do is kiss you until the world stops spinning. 

He looks into your eyes and your glance flickers down to his lips before whipping backup to his eyes. 

Fuck it. That’s all the permission he needs. 

He uses the hand on your cheek to keep you still as he bends to capture your lips gently. He kisses you slowly and carefully because he isn’t quite absolutely sure that this is what you want too, although he hopes like hell it is. 

He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead on yours. 

“Pinch me or something,” you quietly, “I’m still asleep, aren’t I? I’ve gotta be dreaming.”

Daniel laughs, loud and long, with relief and joy. He pulls you close, finally getting to feel you against him. “C'mere,” he says as he tucks your head under his chin. The scent of vanilla catches him again and he inhales deeply. After a minute of sitting in peaceful silence, reality creeps back in. “It’s a shame you can’t stay longer,” Daniel murmurs, almost worried that you’d fallen back asleep in his arms. 

“I haven’t booked my flight home yet,” you respond, playing with the strings attached to the sweatshirt. You look up at Daniel. “I fell asleep before I really got to looking at them.”

“I know you were worried about everything you’ve got to do when you get back.”

“Sometimes more important things come along,” you say with a smile. “Maybe I don’t want to go back yet. I haven’t seen any of the sights of Monaco yet.”

“What about your big meeting?”

“I can do almost all of it remotely. I think I deserve a break. Although, I will have to find a hotel room,” you say, grinning. 

Not if Daniel has anything to say about that. 

He grins and pulls you close again, his lips meeting yours, each kiss you share hotter than the one before. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

**Author's Note:**

> That was fun, right? Just syrupy sweet and adorable - like a great big hug. Maybe one day I’ll actually write angst.
> 
> Like any other published RPF, this fic obviously doesn't reflect the actual thoughts/feelings of DR - I've simply used him as a shell into which my hermit-crab idea of a story crawled. This is a story written in the 2nd person (“self insert"). This isn’t written to be exclusionary, it’s just my preferred style! I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance!
> 
> Anyways!! Thank you for reading! My love language is words of affirmation so leave me some feedback or future story suggestions here if you feel so inclined!


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